


Crash

by DashFlintceschi



Series: Prompt Table [4]
Category: You Me At Six
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Panic Attacks, There's some gory-ish injuries, but not described much, maybe a claustrophobia warning?, quite a few mentions of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7920199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DashFlintceschi/pseuds/DashFlintceschi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The roof of the venue is about to collapse. They have plenty of time to get out, but they'd rather make sure the crowd gets out safely first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash

**Author's Note:**

> Number 5 - Man Made Disaster. Not really sure if this counts, but eh.

The whole time they’re on stage, Josh keeps hearing this weird creaking noise. He thinks nothing of it, though. Venues make weird noises sometimes. All that loud music and people jumping around, they’re bound to. Halfway through Bite My Tongue, though, he falters as the house lights turn on out of nowhere, and seconds later, their sound engineer’s voice comes over his in-ears.

“Guys, we need to stop, the roof is structurally unsound, they think it could come down any second, we need to get the fuck out of here,” his voice is quick and panicked, but Josh takes a deep breath to calm himself and looks around at his band mates. They all nod, and rather than get the fuck out, as Nick suggests, Matt, Chris, and Max put down their guitars as Dan comes out from behind his drums. The four of them grab microphones from around the stage, and move to stand beside Josh at the edge of the stage.

“Alright, guys, we need to finish early. The building’s unsafe, they need everybody out now. Don’t panic, alright, we’re gonna stay here and help you guys get out safe, so just stay calm, and do what we tell you, yeah?” Josh tells the crowd, keeping his voice even, and surprisingly, it works, the crowd stay as calm as possible, and Josh nods to himself.

Josh scans the crowd for a second, then takes another deep, calming breath.

“Alright, listen carefully. Everybody that’s downstairs and on my left, Max is going to talk you through getting out; downstairs on the right, listen to Chris; downstairs middle, you’ve got Matt; upstairs left, listen to me; and upstairs right, do what Dan says. Everybody got it?” There’s a wave of murmured agreement through the room, and they nod to themselves and each other.

They take turns directing their sections, so there’s not a jumble of voices to confuse anyone. Since they’ve got further to go, Josh and Dan start with the people upstairs, calmly and slowly talking each side through it, pointing out every exit they can see, frequently reminding everyone to take their time, stay in single file and not to push, it’ll only make things worse if they do. Once they get a wave from a security guard at the downstairs doors, letting them know that the majority of the upstairs crowd is out, Max and Chris start talking their sides through getting out, while Matt interjects every now and again, keeping the middle calm and urging them to wait until the sides clear before moving.

The whole time they’re doing this, they’ve got various voices coming through their in-ears telling them to get the fuck out. The crowd will be fine, the security are trained in emergency evacuation procedure. They ignore it, determined that every last member of the crowd is out before they even consider moving. When there’s only a dozen or so people left filing out of the doors, the five of them nod in silent agreement, it’s time to get the fuck out. They jump off the stage and start jogging towards the nearest exit, when the guard holding the door open shouts something unintelligible and throws himself through the door, just as the roof comes down with a deafening crash.

There’s stunned silence on the street, where most of the crowd is still standing, waiting to be told what to do and where to go, until a fireman strides over to the guard and hauls him to his feet.

“You alright, mate?” He asks calmly, and the guard nods.

“They’re still in there. The band. The stupid fuckers wouldn’t leave,” he tells the fireman shakily, and horrified screams move through the crowd in a wave as his words are passed back. The fireman tries in vain to issue instructions to his team, but it’s impossible with all the noise. Finally, he gives a frustrated sigh and steps up onto a bench.

“Hey! You want that band out of there? Then shut the hell up! There is nothing we can do for them as long as we can’t make a plan, so shut up so we can hear ourselves think!” He roars over the noise, and shocked silence falls again. “Thank you,” he mutters sarcastically as he steps down from the bench and starts issuing orders.

Under the rubble, Josh slowly regains consciousness with a pitiful, pained whine.

“Jay? That you?” Max’s muffled voice comes from somewhere to his left. There’s debris between them, but they’re close enough to hear.

“Yeah, it’s me. You alright?” Josh wheezes, and Max is quiet for a moment as he assesses himself.

“Think a few bones are broken, there’s a load of blood coming from somewhere, my head, I think, but I think I’m more or less alright, you?” He rattles off, and Josh sighs in relief; well, as much as he can, anyway.

“I can’t feel my leg, my arm’s in agony, and I can’t breathe, I think there’s something pinning my chest,” he wheezes, and Max gulps. That’s not good, at all.

They try calling out to the others, but they either don’t get an answer, or they can’t hear it, so Max focuses his efforts on making enough noise for someone outside of the rubble to hear, while Josh just does his best to stay conscious and keep breathing despite the massive pressure on his chest and abdomen.

Less than three feet away from Josh’s head, Dan’s sobbing in pain, trying desperately to get Josh and Max, or anyone, to hear the soft croak his voice has become. There’s some kind of steel bar in his stomach, from their lighting rig, he thinks. It’s deep in his abdomen, and he’s managed to convince himself that he can feel it scraping against his spine when he breathes, but he’s trying not to think about that right now. If he does, he’s pretty sure he’ll vomit, and between the fact that he’s on his back and the very limited space in the debris around him, he’s pretty sure if he vomits, he’ll probably choke on it.

After what feels like eternity, he hears Josh’s voice again.

“Oh god, I think one of them’s near me, and they’re hurt bad,” he gasps, wanting to sob, but not able to breathe in that much.

“I can’t hear any of them, though. If they were near us, we’d hear them,” Max argues, and Josh lets out a weak, wavering sarcastic laugh.

“Then why is the rubble next to my head bleeding?” He demands, and Max makes a weird choking noise.

“It’s what?” He checks, and Josh huffs.

“There’s blood seeping through the rubble. Either one of them’s near-by and bleeding bad, or the walls are fucking bleeding, Max,” he insists, then shuffles as best he can to turn his head towards the blood.

“Dan? Matt? Chris? Can you hear me?” He calls through, listening close for an answer. Dan tries as hard as he can to shout back, but his voice is even weaker now than the last time he tried. With some wriggling, he manages to move his arm so that the back of his hand is pressed against a mostly intact sheet of plywood beside him and taps his knuckles off it a few times.

Max has just started talking, trying to reassure Josh, when Josh hears it.

“Shh, shut up!” He hisses, listening closely, but the tapping has stopped. “Was that you tapping?” He asks Max quickly, his heart jumping at Max’s little ‘nuh uh’. “Do it again. Can you tap again for me?” He asks, turning his head towards where the blood is coming from again.

Dan concentrates and manages to tap loudly three times, smiling tightly at Josh’s relieved laugh.

“Ok, two for no, three for yes, yeah?” He asks, and Dan taps three times. “That you, Chris?” Two taps. “Matt?” Two more taps. “Dan, then,” he realises, and Dan taps in the affirmative. “Why aren’t you talking? Wait, nevermind, stupid question. Are you hurt?” Three taps. “That’s why you’re not talking?” Three taps. “Is something crushing you?” Two taps. There’s a pause before Josh asks another question. “Max wants to know if you can hear Matt or Chris,” He relays, and Dan hesitates for a moment, listening closely, then taps twice. “No, Max, he can’t hear them. Danny, keep tapping, so I know you’re alright, yeah?” Dan thinks about it for a second, then starts tapping a rhythm, wondering if Josh will recognise it. He’s quiet for a moment, then snorts. “Are you fucking tapping out the drumbeat for Gossip, you fucker?” He asks rhetorically through his laughter, relaxing and focusing on breathing again as he listens to Dan’s tapping and Max’s mumbling.

Dan keeps tapping, even after the skin on his knuckles splits and blood starts trickling down the back of his hand. He only stops when he thinks he hears something. He completely stills, listening intently, and he hears it again. Rubble shifting above him. And voices and dogs whining. He thinks about it for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to get their attention, and it comes to him. The amount of movement it takes almost makes him pass out, but he manages to get his bloodied hand to his mouth, slipping his index finger and thumb past the corners of his lips and blowing hard. The whistle his efforts produce is so loud it even surprises him, but he doesn’t care as the noises above him stop.

“Did you hear that?” A muffled voice asks, and Dan hears another voice respond, but he can’t make out the words. “There was a whistle, I’m sure of it. Mate, we hear you! Keep going!” The first voice urges, and Dan sighs in relief, taking the deepest breath he can manage and whistling long and hard. He keeps doing it, over and over, until the rubble directly above his face shifts slightly, the search dog whining frantically. “That’s it, good boy. He’s there, is he? Alright, back up so I can get to him,” the voice keeps rambling, to the dog and himself, slowly becoming clearer as the rubble shifts, until finally, a small gust of cold clean air hits Dan’s face and he sobs in relief as a small gap appears in the rubble and he sees the face of his rescuer. “I see you, mate. I’ve got you. Just hang in there, alright? We’re getting you out,” the man soothes as a second voice in the background shouts for more people to come help them. “Can you tell me your name?” The fresh air has made Dan’s voice a little stronger, but it’s still soft and croaky and it takes a few tries for the fireman to hear him. “Dan. Alright, Dan, can you feel anything heavy pressing down on you?” Rather than try to make himself heard again, Dan just shakes his head, and the fireman sighs in relief. “Good, that’s really good. We’re going to get all of this stuff off you and get you out of there, alright?” Dan nods, and more voices fill the air as the extra pairs of hands turn up.

Josh freezes in fear when Dan stops tapping, praying for the first time in his life as the agonising seconds of silence pass. When Dan’s whistle pierces the stuffy air, he sighs in relief. He listens as Dan continues whistling, wondering what prompted it, until he hears the scuffing of moving rubble and a dog whining, and sobs in relief. At least one of his boys is getting out safe, thank god. He continues listening quietly as they start digging Dan out, not wanting to distract them. His heart breaks as he hears Dan grunt and whine in pain when the rubble shifts the wrong way a few times, until the scuffing stops, and several voices cry out in shocked horror as Dan sobs softly in pain.

Dan can hear Josh’s voice, quietly relaying what he can hear to Max as the firemen and paramedics standing above him quickly throw ideas around as they try to figure out the best way to get him out of there. He focuses on the barely audible, soft, soothing tones of Josh’s voice as one of the paramedics finally carefully clambers down into the hole with him.

“Alright, mate, I’ve got some painkillers here for you. I’m going to start the IV, then we reckon the best thing to do is get a backboard under you and lift you out without disturbing the bar. The bleeding seems to have slowed now, and we don’t want to risk doing anything to start it again, that sound alright?” He rattles off as he gently takes Dan’s arm and finds a vein and Dan nods weakly. Painkillers sound like a damn good idea right now.

Once the paramedic; Shawn, he’d said his name was; get’s the IV going, Dan realises that while he can hear Josh’s voice, no-one else seems to. He waves his hand, trying to tap Shawn’s arm to get his attention. When Shawn realises what he’s doing and focuses on him, he tries to tell him, but his voice is almost totally gone now, so he swings his hand and whacks the plywood with it a few times, hoping he’s getting his point across. 

“I’m sorry, mate, I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me,” Shawn tells him sadly, and Dan concentrates, which isn’t as easy as it was, the painkillers have shrouded his mind in a pleasant fog. Finally he manages to focus, making sure Shawn’s looking at his face as he mouths ‘Josh’ and whacks the plywood again. “Say it again… Josh? There’s someone on the other side of that? Josh is over there?” He asks, finally getting it, and Dan nods.

As two other paramedics climb down and start sliding the backboard under Dan, Shawn shifts around until his face is right next to the plywood.

“Josh? Josh, can you hear me?” He shouts through, and Josh freezes. They’re supposed to be focusing on Dan.

“I can hear you. Go help Dan!” He calls back desperately, and Shawn laughs softly.

“Don’t worry, mate, he’s got plenty of people helping him, let me worry about you. How you doing?” He reassures, and Josh relaxes again.

“I can’t breathe, there’s something heavy on top of me,” he tells him, and Shawn stiffens.

“Alright, mate. I’m going to climb up and get people started on getting down to you, alright?” He promises, and after a soft ‘yeah’ from Josh, he scrambles out and rushes to a group of firemen who are waiting to be useful. “Hey, I’ve got another one, a few feet away from this one, says he’s pinned under something,” he rattles off quickly, and they grab their gear, following him over to where he thinks Josh should be. “Josh? Josh, I need you to call out or make some noise for me, can you do that?” The wait, listening patiently, but Josh can’t draw a deep enough breath to shout loud enough.

After a moment, they hear Max, instead. He shouts to them, explaining why Josh isn’t answering, insisting he can wait.

“He’s about two feet to my right, just get him out first, I’m good,” he tells them, and they decide to take his word for it. Exactly two feet to the right of where Max’s voice was coming from, they start shifting rubble. A few feet down, they find two support beams and a ventilation shaft piled up.

“Josh?” Shawn calls, nodding when he hears a soft groan from under the pile. “I hear you, mate, how you doing?” He asks as he and three firemen get into position to start shifting the pile. He frowns when all he hears from Josh is another groan, weaker than the first. “It’s alright, mate, we’ve found what’s pinning you, you’re going to be able to breathe real soon, just hang on for me, mate,” he promises, hoping Josh lasts that long. By the sound of it, he’s fading fast.

They get the ventilation shaft off easy enough, and as they start lifting the first beam out, they hear Max’s voice, talking to Josh to keep him awake. He starts off soft and calm, but as seconds tick past without Josh answering, he gets louder and more frantic.

“Max, mate, just try to relax. We’re nearly with him. We’ve just got one more beam to shift and we’ll be with him, just stay calm, alright?” Shawn calls to him, and Max goes quiet.

With a count of three and no small amount of straining, the second beam comes up and they throw it to the side. The firemen move out of the way and let Shawn and his partner crouch beside Josh, checking he’s still breathing and looking for other injuries. There’s a few tense seconds when Josh’s breathing is shallow and barely there, before he takes a deep gasping breath and starts breathing normally.

Once they’re sure it’s safe to move him, they get a backboard under him and lift him out, just as the firemen get through the rubble covering Max and help him climb out.

“You should’ve waited for us,” Shawn’s partner, Adam, calls to them, and they shrug.

“He insisted,” is all they say, letting Max go as he shrugs them off and limps over to Josh.

“How is he? And Dan? Did you find the others?” He rambles, adrenaline still running high. They share an amused smirk and Adam spares a hand to quiet him.

“Josh is going to be fine, now that he can breathe properly. Dan was in a bad way when we sent him off, we haven’t heard anything since, and your other two friends are in that ambulance there, barely a scratch on them,” he rattles off, gesturing to where Matt and Chris are sitting with a jerk of his head as they start carrying Josh to another ambulance.

Max gets into the ambulance with Matt and Chris, pulling them both into a hug as the three of them get settled and the paramedics close the doors, ready to take them to the hospital.

“You were with Josh, yeah?” Chris asks softly as one of the paramedics starts checking over Max, who nods as he straightens out his leg for the paramedic to look over.

“Yeah, they’re a little worried about his breathing, he was pinned under some stuff, but other than that, he seemed alright. Did you see Dan? They said he was in a bad way, but…” He trails off, frowning at the horrified look that crosses Matt’s face.

“Yeah, I-I saw him. He… He had a metal bar in his stomach, it… It didn’t look good,” he tells him, and Max takes a shaky breath. And there he was thinking they’d gotten off lucky.

Max has a broken leg, three cracked ribs, two dislocated fingers, and nine stitches in the long gash on his forehead. Somehow, Matt and Chris have walked away with just a few cuts and bruises. The three of them agree to stay in the hospital for twenty-four hours for observation, and the nurses agree to put the three of them; as well as Dan and Josh once they get out of surgery; in the same room. Once they’re settled, it’s a tense night of waiting for news of how the two of them are doing.

Finally, just after seven AM, the door opens and they wheel a gurney in, carrying a drugged up, but ultimately much healthier looking Dan. They’ve just gotten him comfortable in one of the empty beds, when another group of orderlies wheel Josh in. The three of them sit talking softly for a few more hours, watching both of them as they wait for the anesthesia to wear off. It’s almost lunchtime when Dan wakes up with a soft moan. Matt gets up and goes to sit on the edge of Dan’s bed, wrapping his hand around Dan’s forearm comfortingly.

“Alright, mate? How you feeling?” He asks softly, waiting patiently as Dan’s glazed eyes slowly clear and become more focused. Finally, he seems totally aware and processes Matt’s question.

“My stomach’s killing me, and my head’s full of cotton wool. What about you? And the others, where are they?” He slurs softly, head lolling as he tries to look around for them.

“Don’t worry about us. Me and Chris are totally fine, just a couple of bruises. Max is more or less alright, couple of broken bones, a few stitches, but he’s good,” he rattles off, purposefully not mentioning Josh so Dan won’t worry. Dan’s not as out of it as he thought, though.

“What about Josh? You didn’t…” Dan demands tiredly, and Matt sighs.

“He’s in the bed on your right. He had surgery on his leg, and he’s still sleeping, but he’s going to be absolutely fine, so don’t worry about it, yeah?” He insists gently, and Dan nods, eyes fluttering as he drifts off again.

Almost as if they planned it, Josh wakes up as Dan drifts off, and Max hobbles over on his crutches to sit with him. They have an almost identical conversation as the one Matt had with Dan, but instead of drifting back to sleep, Josh starts trying to sit up, determined to stay awake. Max quickly scoots up the bed, grabbing Josh under the armpits and hefting him up until he’s happy.

Josh sits with his eyes closed for a moment, letting his still clouded mind clear and reorientate before he opens them again, and looks between the three of them.

“What happened? The last thing I remember is the paramedic talking to me through the rubble while they were getting Dan out,” he asks, and Max nods. He explains what happened next, Josh nodding slowly the whole time, then giving him a slightly scared look when he’s done. “And Dan’s definitely alright?” He checks again, and Max laughs slightly. Josh always did have a bad habit of worrying about everyone else when he should be worrying about himself.

“Well, obviously they won’t really tell us anything, but he woke up a minute ago, and he seemed a lot better, so… Anyway, how’s your leg? And your arm? You said it hurt when we were down there, didn’t you?” Max decides to change the subject, hoping he can get Josh to worry about himself for once.

“Um, my leg’s just kinda tingly, actually, dunno if that’s a bad thing or not. I think my arm was just the way I was lying, it feels fine, now,” Josh mumbles, rubbing his left leg worriedly, and the three of them share worried frowns while he’s not looking. It definitely doesn’t sound good.

The doctor comes in to check on them soon after, just as Dan wakes up properly. It turns out they were expecting the tingling Josh is experiencing in his leg. The doctor explains that one of the beams landed on his leg in a way that caused severe nerve damage, and while the surgeon managed to repair most of it, there’s still some damage that will probably never fully heal. They’re hopeful that with physical therapy, he should have almost full use of his leg again, even with the numbness. Max mentions Josh’s arm, just to be on the safe side, and after taking a quick look, the doctor agrees with Josh. From what she can see, it looks like he wrenched his shoulder and the pain had radiated through his arm, and it should be fine on its own.

They also find out that Dan’s going to be fine, he has a long recovery ahead of him, and he’ll probably have to be careful about what he eats from now on, but other than that, and a rather nasty scar, he’ll be fine. They definitely got off lucky, all things considered.

The doctor wasn’t lying about how long it would take them to recover. It takes Dan almost a month to even sit up all the way, and even then, only for a few minutes at a time. He knows it’ll take time, so he’s patient and doesn’t complain much. Josh is the total opposite, trying to stand up on his own long before he should. Only Matt’s fast reflexes stop him face-planting and doing even more damage. They have a serious talk with him about pushing himself too hard, but he doesn’t seem to be listening. In the end, they explain the whole thing to Josh’s parents when they arrive for visiting hours. It only takes a few stern words in French from his dad to make Josh sheepishly apologise, sincerely promising to be more careful.

Finally, the physical damage heals as much as it’s ever going to, but the psychological damage takes longer. They all still have nightmares, and when they start trying to play shows again, there’s a few false starts. When it comes to agreeing to doing a show, they’re all for it, happy to get going again, but each time, as the date creeps closer, one of them will start freaking out and having panic attacks, until they admit defeat again and cancel the date, apologising profusely each time.

After it happens six times, Josh makes a decision, and sits the four of them down.

“Ok, so I’ve been thinking about it. I say, we try once more. We book a show, we do whatever we need to do to keep ourselves calm leading up to it, and if any of us can’t do it, we stop trying. We take a year or two off, go to therapy, learn relaxation techniques, whatever it takes. We can’t keep doing this. We’re going to drive ourselves insane,” he insists, and they nod.

“You’re right. I mean, it’s not just mental anymore. Last time, I got myself so worked up, it irritated the scar tissue in my stomach. Couldn’t keep a damn thing down for a week and a half,” Dan adds, and they all sigh.

“I don’t think any of us realised how hard it was going to be,” Chris comments softly, and they all murmur in agreement, then start making plans for their last attempt.

They all try harder this time, and the closest any of them come to freaking out is when Max insists that their management have four different safety inspectors evaluate the venue in the weeks leading up to the show. It’s a newer building; which isn’t a coincidence; and all of the inspectors pass it with flying colours, so Max calms down again, and the rest of them get peace of mind they hadn’t known they needed.

The night of the show comes sooner than any of them want it to. They’re nervous as they walk onto the stage, met with deafening cheers. Between the fact that every fan they have knows how determined they were to make sure the crowd were safe, and the fact that they’ve actually managed to make it onstage this time, the atmosphere in the room is electric, and it manages to sweep away those last lingering nerves from all of them.

There’s a moment, three quarters of the way through their set, when Josh’s leg trembles harshly, and the sight of the crowd pressing in tightly sets of his new-found claustrophobia. His chest goes tight with panic, and he has to turn away, signaling with his hand to the others to play it off as he limps to the bucket of water bottles on the drum riser. They react immediately, synching up effortlessly in a random tune, as though they’re just psyching up the crowd before the next song. Dan frowns worriedly and mouths to Josh as he takes a bottle from the bucket, splashing some on his face before taking several large gulps.

Finally, when he feels grounded again, he looks up at Dan, who mouths ‘you ok?’ again, and Josh nods, giving him a tight smile as he drops the bottle back in the bucket and spins on his heel, doing a little dance back to his microphone to hide just how badly he’s limping.

As they sit backstage afterwards, reacquainting themselves with that post-show adrenaline rush, Josh smiles softly to himself.

“That wasn’t so bad. Only one averted panic attack, unless you guys are better at hiding it than I am,” he laughs, and Max huffs a laugh.

“I think I was hovering on the edge of one all the way up to the third from last song,” he tells him, and the other three nod. There were a few times it was touch and go for all of them, but they pulled it off, finally.

It’ll be a few years before they get back that excitement for going onstage, but it’s fine. The worst is over now, and they’ll get there in the end.


End file.
